


I don't need the words (I want the sound)

by UniqueChimera



Series: MXTX Fusion AUs [9]
Category: Merry Gentry - Laurell K Hamilton, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merry Gentry Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Canon-Typical Consent Issues, Fae & Fairies, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are not related, M/M, Polyamory, consent issues do not apply to zhanchengxian, eventual sex terraforming, explicit sex in later chapters, for merry gentry, only merry gentry and her pals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniqueChimera/pseuds/UniqueChimera
Summary: Lan Wangji is frost made flesh. Jiang Wanyin is the last of the Seelie Court's lightning hounds. While in service to Princess Meredith of the Unseelie Court, they encounter an unexpected figure from their past.
Relationships: Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín/Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín/Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Merry Gentry/Various
Series: MXTX Fusion AUs [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2059608
Kudos: 15





	I don't need the words (I want the sound)

**Author's Note:**

> WELP welcome to the nonsense. If you are not familiar with merry gentry, it is a series about fairies (who used to be gods? or something?) with bonkers sex. I don't really know how to get into the sheer amount of nonsense - if you're confused or have questions about the consent stuff please ask in the comments.  
> If you are not familiar with the Untamed you should be ok I think? for what it's worth Lan Wangji takes Frost's place, Jiang Wanyin Doyle's, and Wei Wuxian Rhys' but their backstories are different to fit Untamed canon.  
> Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian are not siblings or martial siblings in this. That being said, if the zhanchengxian pairings or chengxian pairings are an issue for you, I would advise not reading this.  
> Big thank you to the Sunday crew for reading this and providing feedback.  
> Title is from Carly Rae Jepsen's 'The Sound'

Lan Wangji watches snow drift across the ashen sky, dusting the streets below like powdered sugar on the donuts Galen is so partial to. The people occupying those streets provide most of the landscape’s color. Lan Wangji can make out a vermillion scarf and a grassy bowler hat, the edge of a plum skirt twirling in front of a rusting movie theater. Wei Ying used to twirl like that at harvest festivals, his flaxen tunic billowing around him as the bracelets around his wrists and ankles jingled with each graceful twitch. Humans had worshiped them then, called them by their proper names and honored them with proper tribute. Lan Wangji remembers how Wei Ying would smile when he received offerings, his expression the lopsided grin of a trickster. It had made Lan Wangji want to get on his knees and worship Wei Ying alongside the humans.

Not for the first time, Lan Wangji curses the fickle tempers of humans. If not for their silly wars, Wei Ying might still be with them. Lan Wangji misses him the way the sky misses the sun at twilight. Even the brightest colors seem muted, the most fragrant spices bland. In the 70 years since Wei Ying has disappeared, the ache in his soul has not lessened one whit.

Someone knocks on the door to his hotel room, eliciting a hollow thunk and a shower of gruel-colored paint flakes from the ceiling. Lan Wangji stands, his bare feet crunching against the thistle-like carpet. He crosses the room in five sure steps, careful to slip a piece of cloth between his hand and the doorknob. The hotel manager swore up and down that there was no iron in the exterior of the rooms when Princess Meredith had interrogated him two nights ago, clearly intimidated by the cadre of armed faeries who had alighted upon his doorstep. Lan Wangji wonders what half-truths he had heard about their kind. Some of the seedier tabloids have taken to calling them bloodsuckers, which Lan Wangji finds as distasteful as his Princess finds it amusing.

Regardless, it never hurts to be careful. He turns the doorknob with what feels like a laughable amount of force—any more, he knows, and he’ll rip the doorknob out of the door—and comes face to face with Jiang Wanyin, last of the Seelie Court’s lightning hounds. He, too, had fled the Seelie Court after Wei Ying had disappeared and everything had gone to hell.

“You look like shit,” he says.

Lan Wangji knows better than to respond to that.

Jiang Wanyin’s indigo suit creases at the shoulders as he releases an explosive sigh. “We’re meeting in Princess Meredith’s room in five, alright?”

Lan Wangji nods. He gestures for Jiang Wanyin to come in, assuming that Jiang Wanyin would like a place to dissemble before the meeting. Jiang Wanyin’s ever-present scowl deepens, but he follows Lan Wangji into the room. “This place is a dump,” he says, eying the peeling paint of the hotel room’s walls with frank distaste.

Lan Wangji doesn’t disagree, but he dislikes complaining about it. They are bound to serve the Unseelie Princess for the rest of their lives. If she wishes to squat in an iron-festooned hovel crawling with vermin, they must squat in it with her.

He picks his revolver up - not a trace of iron, a gift from Princess Meredith - and tucks it into the holster strapped to his thigh. Jiang Wanyin pitches his body forward and falls onto Lan Wangji’s bed.

Lan Wangji very carefully does not sigh. He clips the sheath of his sword Bichen onto his belt. The filigree snowflakes that decorate its hilt are the crisp color of starlight.

“What happened?” he asks. Jiang Wanyin has, unfortunately, reached the stage of his sulk where he must be prompted.

His face curls in on itself. It would be fascinating to watch if Lan Wangji had not seen him make the exact same expression hundreds of times before.

“Someone contacted her,” he says. One of his hands curls around the hilt of his sword Sandu. The other worries at the amethyst ring on his right hand. Jiang Wanyin only does that when he’s very, very worried.

Lan Wangji sits on the head of the bed. His thigh is a handspan away from Jiang Wanyin’s head. If Lan Wangji is not careful, strands of Jiang Wanyin’s long, dark hair will get onto Lan Wangji’s ice-white suit.

He places his hand on Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder and rubs his thumb over the seam of Jiang Wanyin’s suit jacket. When they had first arrived at the Unseelie Court, he would never have deigned to touch the man. Centuries of service to a mad Queen with an unslakable thirst for violence had forced them to band together. They were the sole outcasts in a blood-soaked Court--there was no one else to soothe each other's hurts, to provide some solace against the unrelenting agony.

Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder loosens and lowers under his hand as the tension starts to leave his body. “He—” Jiang Wanyin takes a deep, shuddering breath that Lan Wangji can feel through the fabric of the suit. “He calls himself the Yiling Patriarch.”

Lan Wangji can feel his fingernails digging into Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder. He resists the urge to pull Jiang Wanyin close, so that he can give hide his own reaction from the world under the pretense of giving Jiang Wanyin some comfort.

Wei Ying had been the patron god of Yiling before his banishment.

“We’ll be late,” Jiang Wanyin says. His voice is hushed, his eyes downcast.

“It is probably not him,” Lan Wangji says. He has learned to be cautious, to not feed false hopes.

“Yeah,” Jiang Wanyin says. “Yeah, you’re right.”

They head to Princess Meredith’s room in silence after that. It is only a couple doors down from Lan Wangji’s - they all occupy rooms on the same floor, so that they can quickly respond to any crises the Princess might experience.

As always, her room is a study in controlled chaos. Meredith sits in the room’s sole chair, trying to look regal despite its fading upholstery and peeling varnish. Galen and Nicca both flank her. Galen’s pea-green skin and flowering hair make the beige wall behind him look wan, and Nicca’s butterfly wings blot out what little sun trickles in from the window. With their hands on their swords and their guns clearly strapped to their hips, they are a clear demonstration of the force Princess Meredith has at her disposal. She herself is the deadliest of the three, able to reduce a foe to a steaming pile of flesh and expunge the blood from their body, but her petite frame and part-human heritage make it difficult for some to take her seriously. A man stands before her, wearing a shabby black trenchcoat that falls to his knees. He turns, and Lan Wangji swears he feels his heart stop.

He looks as he had before the Third Weirding: paper-pale with a laughing smile. But dark hair, which had once been a river of shadow coursing down his back, is now tied into a tufty ponytail that sits atop his head. One of his dancing eyes is covered with a patch the color of blood.

"It's been a while," he says.

There is so much Lan Wangji wants to say, but the words are stuck in his mouth. He can feel hot tears streaming down his cheeks. Jiang Wanyin grips his hand with enough force to cause pain.

"Wangji," your princess says, "Who is this?"

"Oh, you don't remember me?" Wei Ying smiles. "It's alright. You weren’t born yet, were you?"


End file.
